


Words

by Ladycat



Series: Shadow'verse [19]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Found Families, Gen, Post: s05e22 The Gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am her pseudo-big brother. I am allowed to make with the cuddling.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

“Did you take the trash out?”

“No.”

 _Sigh_. “I thought we asked—”

“And you’re so very shocked and surprised I didn’t? Please. I’m still evil.”

“Oh, right. Totally.”

“I detect sarcasm.”

“Oooo, and smart, too!”

“Now it’s condescension. Pick a method of mockery, Xander, if you flip-flop all over the place it just makes you look the fool.”

“I’m thinking tips from a man—sorry, vamp—who practically _breathes_ sarcasm is probably not going to be useful in my new career as the man who mocks. Wait, can I have a career like that? ’Cause that’d so totally be better than construction.”

“S’called a stand up comedian. And you’d suck. Don’t try it.”

“You’re killing my hopes and dreams here. Anyway, back to the sarcasm at hand—”

“I’ve had better segues from dead rats.”

“The ones you just finished eating, right?”

“Hey! Now that’s just—”

“A really good shot and _shut up_ ’cause I have something serious to say here.” _Beat_. “Quiet now? Good. So ... you’re still evil, right?”

A small moment of consideration, and then a snort. “Yeah, all right, I’ll play. Yes, Xander, I’m still evil. Card-carrying member, in fact. I’m due my free toaster for most conversions ever any day now.”

“You talk like Dawn. Who, by the by, is asleep on your lap. Doesn’t that kind of obliterate the evilness?”

“Evilness doesn’t mean _heartlessness_ , you inconsiderate bastard. And that was a bloody low blow. My love is the stuff of legends—don’t think I haven’t seen you sneaking a look at the Watcher’s books about me.”

A snort that was obviously trying to disguise a chuckle. It failed, mostly. “Yeah, yeah, your faithfulness knows no bounds. Now, your _cuteness_ , what with teenage girl sprawled over your lap—”

“Oh, like you aren’t either.”

“ _I_ am her pseudo-big brother. I am allowed to make with the cuddling.”

“You’re cuddling her arse, is what you’re cuddling.”

“That’s cause you have her torso and, oh yeah, _ew_. That’s gross, Spike.”

“You started it.”

“I said you weren’t evil! I didn’t say anything about you being a perv!”

“Like you’re any better.”

“Hey! You’re the one who does the ... fondling thing!”

Silence. It wasn’t very pointed silence, though Xander ended up shifting uncomfortably as he brushed against a topic he knew better than to really talk about. Certain things were off limits not because they were wrong—he knew that—but because they were just too private to be discussed.

“So. Um, garbage? The taking out of?”

“I, uh, actually already did it.”

“You did.”

“Yeah.”

“And you told me you didn’t because ... ?”

“It winds you up. Duh.”

“Again with the Dawn-speak.”

“Wanker.”

“Damn skippy. Er.”

 _Chuckle_. “Finally looked that one up, did you?”

“Possibly?”

“Blush any harder and I’m going to lose all self-control.”

“You don’t _have_ self-control. And stop with the flirty-teasing. It’s starting to wig Willow out.”

“And Willow’s your mum, is she? Always do what she says?”

“No, but if she gets wiggy that means she starts with the uncomfortable questions and the frequent checking. Of both of us.”

“Oh, heaven forefend.”

“Again with the sarcasm. And I mean the two of us with _Dawn_ , numbskull.”

“Monroe won’t let her.”

“Her name is Tara.”

“And still I’m calling her Monroe. Who won’t let Red get too wigged out, as you so cleverly put it. Or she’ll come speak to us.”

“Why is it you listen to her, and not me? Even when we’re saying the same thing?”

Short pause. A thoughtful expression, mouth twisted as honesty and continued teasing were both contemplated. “She’s prettier.”

“Hey! I can be pretty! And don’t think I haven’t noticed you checking me out, buster.”

“Gotten over our homophobia, have we? Not gonna deny you have a nice arse.”

“... yeah, don’t say that anymore.”

“Can’t take a compliment?”

Silence, again, but this time with a slightly different quality. There were truths, and then there were _truths_.

“Er.”

“Right.”

“So, uh ... ”

“Garbage.”

“You said you did it.”

“And I did. Saved your mortal weakness from hauling a few day’s worth of trash to the sidewalk.”

“Freak.”

“Manly freaky.”

“The one doesn’t cancel out the other.”

“Says the bloke who just spent the last hour folding Dawn’s laundry.”

“Well _she_ doesn’t! She tosses it all over the floor!”

“As does every teenager in existence. I remember that dank hole you used to call home, Harris, and the way you did ‘laundry’.”

“I remember wet towels _on_ my clean clothes, asshole.”

“Which is why you aren’t kipping here, with us.”

“Cause you’re an asshole? Nah, I’m used to that by now.”

“So you repeatedly turn Willow down because ... ”

“I refuse to live in a house where I’m outnumbered by women four to one.”

“Three to two.”

“Spike. You _help Dawn with her make up._ It’s four to one.”

“Harris, you _cook better than Red does_. You have no guy friends, as I’m apparently a girl. You hate taking out the trash.”

“I work at a construction site.”

“So does the dyke that can haul more weight than three of you combined.”

“Hey! Don’t call Belinda that!”

“Why the hell not? She told me she liked hearing it in my accent.”

“I—you—there is no possible good answer for that, is there?”

“Not unless you wanna get yourself even deeper in it.”

“Because you’d tell Belinda.”

“Gotta have someone to talk to when I come pick you up after work.”

“I hate you.”

“Yup.”

“Hey, you getting hungry?”

“Er. You do remember I’m a vampire, right?”

“Yeah, and you eat almost as much as Dawn does.”

“If this is another lecture about me pulling my weight ... ”

“Hey, whoa, that was Giles, man, not me. Which, by the way, he’s not going to do again. I think he’s still laughing at the thought of you going grocery shopping to ask where you get the money, either.”

 _Growl_. “You said something about hungry, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I wanted to make lasagna. Wanna help?”

“Sure—er, wait. Then we’d have to wake Dawn.”

“Spike. She can sleep by herself for an hour or two. Nothing is going to happen to her. We’re ten feet away, and anyway, we always fight when we cook together. You know she’ll wake up to come watch.”

“If there’s no blood, Xander, then it's not fighting.”

“You wanna tell her it’s flirting?”

“No, think she’s come up with that one on her own. And it isn’t flirting, you giant poof. If I want someone, I seduce them. I don’t flirt.”

“So calling me sweet-cheeks is ... ”

“A way to make you blush like the insecure, neurotic git you are.”

“You know, in some cultures, that’s affection.”

“Good thing it’s not ours.”

“Yeah.”

“Right.”

“Cooking?”

“Yeah, all right.”

Slowly, both extricated themselves from Dawn’s warm, sleeping body. She twisted unhappily with the loss of her bed, settling only when Xander spread a blanket over her, both he and Spike smoothing it down. Their hands met at Dawn’s elbow. For the first time since Dawn fell asleep, Spike and Xander looked at each other.

“Um.”

“We don’t actually have to _say_ it, do we? We’re blokes. We’ve got that whole silent understanding thing going.”

“Right, definitely. Silent. Without speech.”

"Exactly."

“Right. So, you don’t actually—”

“Kitchen, now. You flaming Nancy.”

“Poof.”

“It’s pronounced more like _puff_ , not the _poof_ of a vamp turning to dust. Pillow-biter.”

“Giles says ‘poof’. Um. Shirt-lifter.”

“Giles isn’t as proper as you lot think he is. Get him pissed and then try it. Fairy.”

“So I can have my eyebrows singed off again? No way. And I can’t think of anything else.”

“Remind me to nick you the _Book of Dirt_. Into the kitchen, you prancing twink.”

“Hey! I am so not a ... whatever you just called me!”

“Squeak that a little higher, you haven’t quite hit falsetto yet.”

“I hate you. I _hate_ you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Meat or vegetarian?”

“ _What_?”

“For the _lasagna._ ”

“Oh. I still hate you.”

“Uh huh. Hate you right back.”

On the couch in the living room, Dawn smiled broadly and tried not to giggle. Her boys? Were so totally stupid. But highly entertaining.


End file.
